


Combat the Silence.

by Celestial_Hero



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Phone Calls, Sad Talks, Sad with a Happy Ending, kind of an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Hero/pseuds/Celestial_Hero
Summary: Ryuji Sakamoto is tired, but never so much so to not talk to Akira.





	Combat the Silence.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what's up with me and writing somewhat-angsty shit in the middle of the night, but I like how I keep cranking it out, and hopefully you all will too.
> 
> I've got to be completely honest with you: I have yet to actually play the Persona 5 game, and so, y'know, what with me trying to (mostly) skip around spoilers and whatnot, my perception of the characters may be a bit off, as I don't really have enough experience being familiar with them than others who write content for the fandom.
> 
> I've watched a bit of the animation (and you don't have to tell me for me to know they left out a lotta shit from the game), so I've tried my best to use what I know of the game, and have seen in the animation, to characterize Sakamoto and Kurusu/Amamiya/Protagonist.
> 
> Obviously, because I've chosen to write a fic for a fandom that I'm not too educated in, I should expect spoilers from the game that you may wish to comment. I won't be upset if anyone is to comment such things, so don't feel hesitant to drop your opinions and takes on what I wrote!
> 
> Enjoy!

Ryuji is tired. The kind of tired not where your muscles are heavy, lids fluttering shut after being open from such a long, taxing day, but the kind where your mind is somehow both too muddled and too alive with thoughts, enough so much so that sleep is a short respite, fragmented easily by the smallest sounds: a person coughing outside, the house creaking when you're _just_ on the brink of drifting into oblivion, or the sharp, piercing sound of a notification on his phone going off, a message that he knows he can't ignore, in the case that it were something so important that he'd know he'd felt guilty missing while being asleep.

It could be a friend requiring emotional support, and being met with none, ultimately causing them to shut themselves away from others in a subconscious way of not seeming too needy, or getting hurt at having their hopes high only to be met with silence. Ryuji knows well enough of those nights, where those he thought he could rely on were either too tired from work, or of him. He remembers scrolling through his social media apps at night after being left with no response, looking at images and videos to assuage his aching heart, thoughts, and mind, only for the disappointment to be delivered ten fold at discovering the people he had just attempted to reach out to were, in fact, active. 

He never tried reaching out for them then; in this day and age, the green and blue bubble floating beside their profile picture said enough after such things. 

And so, even though his eyes stung from spending one too many nights staring into the digital world (something he and Akira liked call to Mementos, as it in itself seemed to be a prison--tortured souls twisted by falsified desires, spawned through the "musts" that seemed to shadow you as an outcast if not followed), and a sharp pain in the back of his head suggested he do otherwise, Sakamoto found himself slinging an arm over the side of his bed to reach for his binging device. 

Fumbling in the dark, Ryuji is surprised to see not one, but 5 messages, three being from the surprisingly quiet group chat, and two from Akira. Wincing at the brightness, he turns it down in order to read the messages.

Renren: hey

Renren: are you up?

Each message was sent a few minutes ago. Even though much time hadn't passed, Ryuji still can't help the sickly weight forming itself in his stomach. Pale fingers type a response.

Sakamoto-kun (me): yeah what's up

Renren: can I call you?

The immediate response doesn't help the heavy feeling in his gut, but he somehow manages to type out a quick "yeah of course" before he lets it leads to jittery nerves. What was he getting nervous about? It's not like he did anything wrong to begin with? I mean, sure, the long summer days and sleepless nights had been a bitch on him, but he thought he'd been doing a good job keeping up with his friends? The last thing he'd want to do is drift away from them, due to a lack of communication on his part.

His phone vibrates in his hands, flashing an image of a selfie he and Akira took once some time ago, and even though he still felt anxious as to why Akira wanted to call him so late at night, the picture managed to untwist a few of the knots within him before he slid his thumb across the screen, holding the phone up to his ear.

"Hey," he said, voice scratchy but unwavering. 

"Hey yourself," was the other's grandiose response, and if it weren't for the slight crack and whispery tone of his words, Ryuji almost would've been convinced that everything was fine. That's never the case though, even when someone appears and sounds chipper.

"What's up," he says, shooting for casual, although they both know having a conversation at 3 in the morning, without almost any prompting beforehand, and having one started by the usually more reserved of the duo, was anything but.

"I just...couldn't stop thinking. Was getting a little lonely," Akira whispers, a quiet chuckle thrown in at the end of his words. Ryuji can feel the weight each huff of laughter from the other held, and he found himself absorbing it into his gut when it met his ear.

"Wanna vid call?" he suggested, not really knowing how else to go about the situation without being too forceful or awkward.

Ryuji was one to try and go about reacting to others based off their body language; he was known for not exactly thinking about his words, usually having some aggressive or disrespectful tone to it (or so the people at school said). That, coupled with the fact that so many years with just himself and his mom after his father, a piece of shit sperm donor who abused both his family and alcohol (although most of the time, it seemed like he treated his drinks like the only family he had), in the end taught him how to bite his tongue if he didn't want to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. The lack of positive social interaction didn't do much for his "social skills" though, and it showed.

He was better at reacting to raised fists and competion than people's emotions. That wasn't to say he didn't have any of his own! Or that he completely disregarded others' feelings! It's just...he didn't know what exactly to say to make them feel better a lot of the time; mostly his interactions were a hit or miss. He came off too headstrong and intense, not afraid to tear open a new one if need be, and because of his blunt, aggressive, somewhat-standoffish demeanor, often times his good intentions went unnoticed, and provoked more of an issue than the previous one he attempted to diffuse. 

Which is why he didn't want to mess up so bad with Akira. The guy already had a bad habit or keeping a lot of shit to himself and suppressing his emotions, combating concern with faux laughter and witty jokes that, although humorous, only made cracking open Akira's true feelings _that_   much harder. They all have their vice, in the end.

"Okay."

Ryuji starts up a videocall, which rings a few times and has his jittery nerves starting up again, before the familiar messy black locks of his friend appeared on screen. There's a shuffle of movement as Akira places down his phone somewhere in front of him, and the warm glow of a light somewhere in his room gives Akira a soft sorta feel to him. 

The silence floating between them is awkward. Scanning the other's appearance, Ryuji looks for something, _anything_   to make a joke of, in hopes of alleviating the heaviness that seems to hold their mouths shut. He takes his swing with the cat pants.

"I like your pants."

Akira laughs quietly, this one more genuine than the previous one, Ryuji notes, and he can't help his own smile at it. On screen, Akira takes a lock of hair between his fingers, rubbing it and chewing his lip, and were it not for the obvious seriousness of the conversation, he might've tried to make pale cheeks blossom into budding roses.

"I..." Akira begins, face contorting as he chokes on too many words for someone who speaks too little to be used to. He clears his throat and tries again. "I was feeling a bit down. Needed someone to talk to. I guess I just miss everyone a lot? And I mean I know I could always take the train to see you all, but after the whole probation thing, my parents don't really let me do too much anymore, y'know? I don't know. It's stupid."

Silence befalls the duo again--an intense, piercing, anxiety-ridden quiet that leaves the both of them even more unsure of where to continue than before. Akira's mouth opens again, fingers twisting then untwisting with one another, and looks close to saying something dismissive, before he's cut off by the vehement shaking of Ryuji's head.

"Nah, man, it ain't stupid," he says slowly, tone stern and certain. He may suck at knowing what to say to make people feel better, or at giving advice, but he does know that it isn't easy, at _all_ , to talk about things that you may find insignificant--which, when you're so used to rationalizing and downplaying your own problems for the sake of others [for Ryuji, it was his friends and mother], it just becomes a habit.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, dude, I don't really know what to say most of the time, but I do know that you don't deserve to feel so...trapped? I dunno, man. We both know how parents can be; they're either not there, or with us too much, if that makes sense," the words spill from his mouth insensibly, a drifting train of thought with an unknown destination. "And even though there's not really much you can do without getting into much trouble, heh, like that's stopped us before, um, anyway, uhhhhh, I mean I could always gather up the gang, and we go to you? That can't be an issue, right?"

Eyes having been trained on the ceiling for most of his spiel, Ryuji isn't surprised to see his friend silently listening and contemplating his words. The heavy feeling from before finds its way in his stomach. Akira had called him to _talk,_ not listen to _him_ talk. Gosh, he was just so self-centered, wasn't he? Get one good friend, and suddenly they become his own human cellphone. 

"Aw, dude, I'm sorry for talking so mu-"

He's cut off by laughter--loud, bubbly chuckles, muffled by Akira's hand. His eyes crinkle even more at Ryuji's bewildered face, and before Ryuji can even think of getting even _more_ words out, Akira's free hand is being waved in the air as he takes deep, steadying breaths.

"O-oh man, I'm sorry, it's just," Akira snickers. "You delivered that so...eloquently. A master life coach, my dear friend."

A warm blush tints the tips of Ryuji's ears and highlights his cheeks as he sputters uselessly for a retort. His antics seem to only further push his friend's laughter, though, and after a few seconds of silently watching Akira fold in on himself with quaking shoulders, Ryuji feels his own smile split his cheeks.

"So I guess that's my mission then, huh, leader?" Ryuji teases, brows wiggling to add just that little push before another fit of laughter erupts from the other. 

Maybe he was making this moment between them more than it really was, or maybe it actually was something special that he just so happened to pick up on for once, but Ryuji found that making Akira laugh this morning, out of all their other sessions of humor and insecurity, would stick with him the most.

Especially when Akira, his usually indifferent eyes, squinting and watery, meet his own, head bobbing not only as to say  _yes,_ but  _thank you, I trust you._

And so, even after their giggles ebb slowly from them, and the silence ringing in their ears reminds them that, _hey, after all this, you'll be left with me again_ , a deep, heavy weight of sleepiness finds itself in their limbs, and even if just for tonight, Ryuji finds the void in his chest sated, his mind clear, and stomach light, for the first time in a long time, happily seeing the same reflected on Akira's own side.

"Wanna stay connected 'til we sleep?" he still asks, because even though the short-lived light mood between them is still evident, Ryuji doesn't want to assume they'll be okay alone again or place an end to what they have going on then. It's selfish, he knows, but what's living if not being a little?

"Yeah, man...thanks," Akira says, flicking off the light, and plunging the screen into darkness.

"No problem, dude. We'll see you soon."

And as the two settle into their respective beds, phones placed close to their pillows as they radiate the presences neither can see too well in that darkness, the calm, even breathing that filters through their speakers that night combat the silence--and all that comes with it--just a bit longer.


End file.
